Commander (Politics of Love) Page 10
“Mrs. Kumar.” My breath felt heavy and my mouth parched.
“That’s right. Mrs. Kumar. I’ve waited a long time to hear that from your lips.” He glided his hand along the inside of my leg, over my knees, and to the juncture of my sopping cleft.
“We can’t, Ashur.”
“What can’t we, Tara? All I’m doing is making sure my wife isn’t lying about her needs.”
He grazed the wet fabric of my underwear, and I clamped my thighs to block him from going further. “Not here.”
He licked his lips. “Yes here. Let me taste you. Let me fuck my tongue into your hot, wet pussy.”
My knees grew weak. What would it be like to have his mouth on me, in me, all over me?
I needed him to touch me, but not like this. There was no doubt I’d lose myself to the pleasure, forgetting anything but the orgasms he would give me. And then, I wouldn’t want it to stop there. I’d beg him to fuck me, and I didn’t want our first time as a married couple to be in the bathroom of a plane that belonged to the United States government.
“Please, not here. Maybe in the future, but not tonight.” I looked down to where he knelt.
The plea in my voice must have broken through the lust, and he sighed. He tugged his hand free, stood and pulled me against him, my back to his aroused front.
I grasped the arm he had across my body and then leaned my head against his shoulder, inhaling in short pants, unable to stop the unsteadiness of my breath.
“Look at us in the mirror.”
I lifted my head and studied Ashur’s giant body behind me. He towered over my small frame, but somehow, we fit.
We’d always fit.
He regarded me with hooded eyes that were filled with longing.
“I’m not going to be fucking you in here. I won’t take that from us. When I take you, it isn’t going to be a fast fuck. It is going to be long, hot, and sweaty.”
Relief washed over me. He had me so worked up that I probably would have let him. At least, one of us had some restraint.
“However, we aren’t going out there until I see you coming at least once.”
Strike the restraint part.
“Ashur, no.”
He tugged the fitted hem of my dress up my thighs and over my bottom.
Why wasn’t I pushing his hands away? Why was I stepping a little wider?
Because you want the release as much as he wants to give it to you.
“You’re so wet, baby. I can see your desire soaking your underwear.”
I glance toward the closed door. “I’m not quiet. I don’t want anyone to hear us.”
His hand crept down to the waistband of my thong, ducking inside.
“Why don’t you let me worry about that. You just enjoy.”
His fingers grazed my clit, sending a shockwave of desire down my spine.
I gasped, “Ashu.”
“Are you watching us?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
I couldn’t keep my gaze away from us, even if I wanted to. He was so sure, so confident, so fucking sexy as hell.
He repeated the feathery touch, not going farther than the sensitive nub. He teased me until I closed my eyes and surrendered to his soft caress. He pushed a finger past my dipping cleft and into my aching core, making me gasp and writhe against him.
“Watch yourself, Tara. You are a goddess, a warrior, the siren who calls to me in my dreams. See what I see, when you come.”
I opened my lids and focused on my face. My cheeks were flushed and my eyes glazed. My chest heaved up and down within the constraints of my bra. My nipples rubbed against the lace fabric covering them, causing them to pebble tight. The front of my underwear that was soaked through with my arousal.
My fingers dug into his arm, holding on for dear life.
Ashur’s hand worked me underneath the material, pumping in and out, pressing at the sensitive area deep inside, and driving me crazy.
“Do you want to come, love?”
“Yes, Ashu. I… I… need. I’m dying.”
“No, you’re not. You’re about to shatter on my hand. Now let me see it.” He plunged another digit inside me to join the other.
My body bowed, loving the pleasure-pain of his thick fingers stretching me and working my sopping pussy.
I rode his fingers, my head thrashing back and forth. Just when my body couldn’t hold out any longer, I turned my face, gripped the back of his head, and captured his lips. My pussy contracted and then clamped down on his pistioning fingers. My orgasm took over, making my body shudder and shake. I clamped my eyes closed and cried out my pleasure into Ashur’s mouth as my release flooded his fingers in my cum. He continued his ministrations until he’d wrung the last of my release out of my spasming pussy.
I lost the ability to hold myself up and collapsed completely against Ashur, breaking our kiss. He held me to him, murmuring words I couldn’t really understand into my hair.
Slowly he slid out of my still-convulsing core. “Now, Mrs. Kumar. I believe we need to prepare ourselves for landing.”
I nodded but was unable to move. Even when Ashur reached to the side, grabbed a napkin, and cleaned his hand and my thighs.
“I love how wet you get for me. Like I said, there’s no hiding your need from me.”
I gave an incoherent hum and kept my eyes closed.
“I believe you’re orgasm drunk.” He kissed the top of my head.
Was there such a thing? Who cared? I couldn’t even muster the strength to stand on my feet.
Ashur kept me in his arms for a few minutes longer, letting my mind come back to reality.
“We need to go back, love.”
“Okay. Give me a second.”
I inhaled slow, long breaths until I could finally focus.
Then, I turned in his arms, wrapping them around his neck. “Thank you for the orgasm, Mr. President.”
He smiled, resting his forehead against mine. “You’re welcome, First Lady.”
I cupped his erection, squeezing it. “Do you want me to return the favor?”
“I want nothing else at the moment, but we can’t. Everyone on the other side of the door—” he gestured with his head, “—knows we were up to something in here. Let’s not give them more to discuss.”
Well hell, that was going to be awkward.
“You started it. It’s your fault.”
He stepped back, offering me his hand. “This is the one thing I will happily take the blame for.”
Chapter Thirteen
A little before two thirty in the morning, I leaned against the giant bay window of the den of the cabin Ashur and I would share for the next few days and watched the last of the agents conduct their final check of the building before closing the door behind them.
Even though I hated the constant protection, I understood it was a necessity. The media had swarmed the Austin–Bergstrom International Airport, wanting a glimpse of the president and first lady. Some had even gone as far as jumping the fences and triggering the remotely activated cameras and security monitors in the hanger we were supposed to use. Thankfully no one outside of our Secret Service was aware we had a planted decoy who led them to Jacinta’s mammoth estate instead of the large cabin where Ashur and I would spend our honeymoon.
It wasn’t considered remote by Texas standards, since it was just an hour and a half outside of Austin, but it was far enough removed to provide the security needed to enjoy our time together without the worry of a camera taking a picture of us. For the next few days, there would be no state visits, no official duties, and no media.
For me anyway. Technically, I was jobless.
Ashur would still have to attend a daily briefing with Veer and Tyler.
The clank of ice in glass had my gaze moving from the closed front door of the cabin and across the den to where Ashur stood at the bar. He was barefoot in only his suit pants and a button-down shirt.
He was sexy down to his toes.
How c
ould a man’s toes look appealing?
The muscles of his broad back bunched and moved as he picked up a crystal decanter. He poured a few fingers of his favorite scotch, dropped in an orange peel, and then swirled the aromatic liquid. He took a deep gulp and closed his eyes, savoring the taste of his concoction.
He was fascinating to watch. His movements were so calm, as if he hadn’t a care in the world and was ready for a relaxing evening in. When in fact he carried the weight of our country on his shoulders.
Would we ever get to a place where we’d share everything? It scared me that I wouldn’t have the type of relationship my parents shared. Could a relationship survive if we both kept secrets?
Slowly, Ashur set his empty glass on the bar counter and turned to face me. His eyes were filled with desire, but there was also a glint of something else I couldn’t put my finger on but made a throbbing pulse deep inside my core.
My heart pounded into my ears and my breath grew shallow.
This was it.
Goosebumps prickled my skin.
Why was I so nervous? We’d technically consummated our marriage the other night, and the interlude aboard Air Force One wasn’t any less intimate.
Maybe it was because the world had watched me marry Ashur in the gardens of the White House. Effectively turning us into an American royal romance. Or the fact there was no turning back now. I was his wife for better or worse.
There was no turning back the moment I’d agreed to marry him.
Now, here we were, about to have our wedding night.
“Tara,” Ashur said as he came up to me, setting his hands on my waist.
My nipples immediately responded to my name and pebbled into hard buds.
He lifted my hair and set it on one shoulder as he grazed his evening stubble on the side of my neck.
“We can be good together. Give us a chance. I meant what I said on the phone today. I want to make this real.”
I swallowed, holding in the desire I felt as tears prickled the backs of my eyes.
“What about our history?”
“Leave it there. I don’t want anything in the way of our future.”
There was no way he’d feel the same once he learned that I’d lived a double life for the past ten years. That I was still living a double life.
“I wish it were that easy. It takes time.”
“I know.” He sighed. “Then will you pretend for our time here that we are ordinary people who are in love, who want to spend time together just learning each other. I need this, Tara. I need you. The moment we get back, all hell—”
I turned in his arms, cupped his face, and covered his lips with mine, silencing anything else he had to say. I couldn’t hear it. The longing in his words was destroying me.
This hard man felt so much. The least I could do was give him what he asked, if only for a few days.
I only hoped my heart would survive.
Ashur gripped my bottom, lifting me against him and deepening the kiss. The hard, thick ridge of his cock pressed into the juncture of my cleft, and my core drowned with desire. His tongue invaded my mouth, rubbing against mine in a seductive rhythm that made my clit swell and ache.
I dug my fingers into his hair and pressed even closer. I wanted him to consume me in whatever way he desired. I wanted him to make me forget about anything other than him and what we shared in this cabin.
My back hit a wall, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.
“Ash,” I murmured, trying to work my hand between us so I could undo his shirt buttons. I was desperate to feel him skin to skin.
“No, not here.” He pulled back, grabbing my hand and placing it on his chest before gazing at me through a desire-filled haze.
“Why not?” I whined, wanting nothing more than the delicious feel of his cock bare against my pussy.
With breath coming in hard pants and eyes dilated, he said with a gruff voice, “The windows aren’t covered and I’ll be damned if I let anyone see you naked but me.”
Immediately, I glanced to the side and glimpsed our security monitoring the perimeter of the area.
“Well, that’s inconvenient.”
“Immensely.”
I unclasped my ankles from around him and dropped them to the floor, stepping out of his hold. Confusion crossed his face and I couldn’t help but smile.
Did he think I wanted to stop? Hell no.
I offered him my hand. “Let’s go, soldier. I want to get naked in private.”
He slid his palm over mine and tugged me toward him, sealing our lips for another circuit-breaking kiss. Once he had his fill, he whispered, “I’m an airman, not a soldier. Air Force, not Army.”
“My mistake.” I hummed, sucking his lower lip into my mouth and then popping it free.
“You said that on purpose.”
I grinned and turned, guiding him toward the master suite.
With each step, my arousal grew and the pulse between my legs felt like unending torment. I was almost positive that if he barely grazed my clit, I’d go off. The orgasm on the plane had done nothing for the low pulse of desire that seemed to burn inside me whenever he was near.
God, I was addicted. The need for him flowed in my veins and the only way to settle my ache for him was to fuck him senseless.
“Tara?”
I glanced over my shoulder, noticing him adjust his thick erection. “When we enter that room, you’re no longer boss.”
My steps faltered.
He caught me before I fell, pressing my ass into the hard ridge of his cock.
I gripped his hips, leaning into his heat. “When have I been the boss?”
He laughed against my ear. “Tara, I’ve let you control every aspect of our relationship since we made our agreement. I’ve gone two years without sex because of your no-sex rule.”
How could that be?
“But we’ve only been together a year and a half.”
“Let’s say I knew I was going to marry you and didn’t want anyone else’s cunt on my cock but yours.”
His crudeness should have pissed me off, but for some crazy reason, it made the need burning inside me intensify.
“Ash.”
“Ashu,” he countered, walking us toward our bedroom door.
“Why is it so important I call you that?”
“Because when you say it, I know what it really means.”
How could he know what it meant, when I had no clue?
I turned in his arms as we passed through the doorway.
Not caring to study the room, I focused on the sexy-as-sin man before me and the statement he’d made.
“What does it mean?”
“You’ll figure it out soon enough.” The lock clicked and a wicked glint entered his eyes.
“We don’t need to lock the door. The only people in this cabin are the two of us.”
“It’s to keep you from escaping.” He took a step forward, as I took one back.
“Why does it feel like I’m prey and you’re stalking me?”
He began to unbutton his shirt, and my throat dried up.
“Am I stalking you, Tara?” His shirt fell to the floor, revealing a soft cotton T-shirt.
I took another step in retreat as the need coursing down my pussy threatened to soak through my underwear.
The simple white shirt shouldn’t have looked so appealing but on him, it did, revealing chiseled arms and a chest that one would never expect on a politician, broad and defined, perfect to hold on to.
Before I could reach out to touch him, the backs of my knees hit the baseboard of the bed, stopping my backward trek.
Ashur took hold of my ribcage. “I want you on the bed, but not just yet.”
I swallowed at the intensity of his gaze.
His palms slowly slid upward until he reached my aching breasts. Then, instead of cupping them, he circled his thumbs along the tips, forcing my nipples into stiffer, harder peaks.
“That’s better.�
� He continued his lazy caress, and just when I was ready to ask for more, he pinched.
I cried out, letting the sting and the desire flow through every nerve in my body. I’d never thought I’d enjoy any pain with my pleasure, but with Ashur, it was a heady mix.
“Take off your clothes, Tara. I want to see you. I want to touch what is mine.”
“Yours?”
“Yes, mine.”
“What about you? Are you mine?”
Why had I asked him that?
“I’ve always been yours for over fifteen years. Time and distance never changed that.”
“Ash, why do you say things like that? I don’t know how to handle this.”
“Let it happen. This time here is ours, Tara. Don’t let the outside world interfere. Remember there is no past or anything beyond each other.”
I studied him for a second. Could I risk it?
Who was I kidding? I was completely caught in his web and I couldn’t think of anything better than to be with this man.
Stepping onto my tiptoes, I bit his bottom lip and said, “Okay. Here. In this cabin. There is only us.”
He fisted a hand in my hair as he ate at my mouth.
“Now back to what I said before, get naked. I want to touch you.”
I shifted out of his hold, giving him my back. He lifted the strands of my hair, laying them on one shoulder, and kissed the hollow at the base of my ear. He grasped the zipper of my dress and tugged down. The soft fabric slid to the floor, leaving me in only a bra, panties, and a pair of thigh-highs.
Goosebumps prickled my skin and I let out a low moan.
“Now this is unexpected.” He traced the henna-style tattoo that ran from the back of my shoulder to the left curve of my bottom. “I don’t remember seeing this before.”
“That’s because we were too desperate to fuck yesterday to even think about getting me naked.”
“I remember that weekend at Jacinta’s estate you wore a bikini.” There was a tinge of possessive irritation in his tone. “And it did very little to cover your assets.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “That weekend I wore a sheer cover-up in a similar pattern to my tattoo so you wouldn’t have noticed.”